Hide Him From The Waiting World
by E. Hayden Williams
Summary: Dean becomes the father to his blind son, and he and Sam raise him, protecting him from the things they hunt.
1. Prologue

"Hide Him From the Waiting World " - a Supernatural Fanfic

 **A/N: Hey, everyone! I just started Supernatural on Netflix, so the information I have to work with is limited at this point (I'm halfway through season two, shh), but I just had the urge to write this fanfic. If you like this, please comment. I can never get enough constructive criticism - anything constructive is greatly appreciated! Featuring lyrics from "Mother" by Danzig.**

* * *

Prologue

Dean watched as she slept sweetly beside him. Her hair was the perfect shade of brown, and her eyes were just as gorgeous. He stroked her hair back softly and admired her from five inches away. But he knew it wouldn't last. He had to hunt, and to hunt meant to leave. Dean rolled to the outside and looked at the clock beside him.

4:30 A.M.

He sighed. It had been a long time since he had gone to bed with someone he knew he would hate leaving in the morning. But it was inevitable. Carefully pulling away from her warm body, Dean slowly climbed out of bed, slipped into his clothes from the night before, and grabbed his things from the desk in the corner of the motel room. Beside his keys was a notepad. Looking at the clock, then back at her, Dean carefully wrote out a goodbye note and his phone number:

"Hey, I had to leave on short notice this morning. I'm sorry. But I had a great night with you. Please, call me. Dean."

He placed it on top of her cell phone and quietly slipped out to the parking lot where Sam was already waiting for him in the parking lot.

"What the hell took you so long to get ready, Dean? Jesus, I've been waiting for twenty minutes."

"Sorry, Sammy – I had a date night last night," Dean said with a smile. "Damn, was she a beauty, Sammy… The whole package and everything, man, I'm telling you."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"What?"

"Sleeping around with women you'll probably never see or hear from again?"

"Well... I left her my number."

"You leave everyone your number, Dean."

"But Sammy… I think she might be the one, brother."

"Oh, so now you decide to start getting serious with people?" Sam blew the fluff of hair out of his face. "You are killing me here, Dean…"

Dean started the engine of his beautiful Impala and began pulling out of the parking lot. "When we get done with this hunt, I'm coming back for her."

"Did you even get her name?"

"Emily. I think…"

"Jesus Christ, Dean."

Dean smirked and headed down the highway. "Adios, Colorado... Maine, here we come."

Emily woke up when she couldn't feel Dean next to her anymore. She slowly opened one eye, then the other, both of which confirmed he wasn't there. She sat up, hoping to see him somewhere in the room, but seeing his clothes, leather jacket, keys, wallet, and phone all gone, she sighed.

"And another one gets away… Damn it."

Emily climbed out of bed and put her clothes back on from the night before leaving the motel herself. Gathering her things, she noticed a small slip of paper on top of her phone. She quickly read it before smiling to herself. "Guess the one-night stand wasn't so bad after all." She put her things in her purse and made her way out of the motel.

* * *

Days went by with no call, and Dean slowly forgot about his night with Emily. Then days became weeks, and still no calls. At least, not from her. She quickly became a faint memory in the sea of one-night stands. Then weeks became months, and it wasn't until almost a year had passed that Dean began to remember Emily again. He didn't know what it was, but she slowly came back to his memory, and no matter what, he couldn't get her out of his head for what felt like forever.

Dean was sitting at the bar with Sam, finishing off his bottle when she came into his thoughts again. He began staring into space, which had been happening often enough that Sam could recognize it.

"Dean," Sam said, gently nudging him in the shoulder. "Dean…" Dean was still zoned out. "Dean!" Sam poked him hard in the side.

"Ow! What the hell was that for, Sammy?"

"You were zoned out again. Why don't you just call her? You can probably find her phone number online somewhere."

"Doesn't do me any good - I've only got a first name," he said, rubbing his side. "How'd you know she was what I was thinking about, anyway?"

"You do that thing with your bottle whenever she's on your mind. Just look her up, man."

Dean looked at Sam. He had a point. But it could never be that easy. Not once had he called a girl he'd slept with that hadn't called him - mainly because there weren't many that didn't call him back.

"I don't know, Sam. Maybe I should just let her go - get her out of my head. I mean, for Christ's sake, it's been almost a year. For all we know she could be dead now. I don't even know why she's in my head, man."

"Maybe if you looked her up, you would know."

Dean shrugged off his brother's idea and began to play with his face when his phone began buzzing on the bar. Dean quickly answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, it this Dean? Dean Winchester?"

"The one and only - who is this?"

"Hello, my name is Margaret Hessler. I work at the Good Shepherd Memorial Hospital outside of Blanding, Utah. I'm calling in regards to an Emily Ferron."

"Emily Ferron?" Well, now he had a potential last name, as luck would have it.

"Yes, Emily Ferron. She was admitted here last night. She came in complaining of abdominal pains and listed you as her contact. I was calling to see if you would be able to come in sometime today."

"Come in? For what, exactly?"

Sam watched Dean's expression change to complete confusion in about two seconds. 'What's going on?' He mouthed to his brother.

'Emily..?' Dean replied before resuming his conversation on the phone.

"I can't exactly say over the phone, Mr. Winchester. I need to see you in person as soon as possible," the nurse answered on the other end. Dean nodded.

"Okay, listen: I'm currently in Arizona right now. Is there a number I can reach you at once I figure out when I'll be arriving?" Dean asked as he gestured for a pen and paper from Sam, who handed him a small notebook and pencil. As the woman on the other end gave him a phone number, Sam watched Dean quickly jot down the digits. "Okay, got it. Thank you. I will give you a call back soon." He hung up the phone.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"A hospital. Called about Emily from Colorado. She put down my number as a contact when she admitted herself."

"Why would she put your number down, Dean?"

"Who knows - your guess is as good as mine. But one thing's for sure; whatever reason she listed me, it's gotta be important."

"You're not seriously thinking about driving all the way out to Utah for some random girl you slept with once…"

"Uh, yeah… I wanna know why she listed me and what's going on that the hospital lady can't tell me over the phone."

"Dude, what if she's a stalker or something?"

"Then we'll find out once we get there, won't we?"

Sam huffed. "Fine. Whatever, Dean." He pulled up a Mapquest page I his laptop. "Where did you say that hospital was?"

"Good Shepherd Memorial - Blanding, Utah."

He plugged the info into the search bar.

"We have a 396 mile, or six hour, long drive ahead of us, Dean."

"Well, we better get packing and on the road. Whatever's going on, we need to take care of it quickly. We don't have all the time in the world to waste." He picked up his phone and called the hospital back.

"Yes, this is Dean Winchester - I'm probably going to be there around…" Dean checked his watch for the time. "7:30 tonight… Okay, great. Bye." Dean closed his phone.

"Let's go hit the open road, Sammy boy. We gotta be there in like, six hours."

"She say what for?"

"Nope. Your guess is as good as mine." Dean tipped his empty bottle up. "Damn it. Another beer," He motioned to the bartender, who handed him another frosty cerveza for the road as Dean laid out a $10 bill. "Thanks."

The Winchesters climbed in the Impala. The sky was clear, the road was empty and long, and it was at least six hours till they got into Blanding.

"Ready to go, Sammy?"

"Yeah…" There was a hint of something negative in his voice. Dean noticed it immediately.

"What is it, Sam?"

"I was just… just thinking about this whole situation."

"What about it, Sam?"

"Well, it's been forever since you've seen this girl, let alone talked to her, and she picks you of all people to put down as her contact? Don't you find that a little weird?"

"Yeah, a little. Which is why we're going. We'll take care of the situation now, then once it's done and over with, we'll get back to hunting. Can't let this get in the way later down the road, so we might as well fix it now." Dean put the car in gear and started out for the road.

"Okay, fine. You're driving, Dean."

"Yeah, you're damn right I'm driving. I don't want to let this issue sit and then come back to bite us in the butt if we don't need it to…"

Sam rolled his eyes. He just really hated having to sleep in the Impala. Dean focused on the road.

But Sam had a point. What in the name of God would compel her to use him as a contact after she never called him in the first place? The thought had crossed his mind, but he didn't want to acknowledge what it could be. It's probably just an honest mistake… Or maybe she missed me, he said, trying to lie to himself. But it wasn't worth the effort. Whatever she needed from him, it couldn't be any worse than what they usually met other people for. No point in dwelling on it.

"How far is it again, Sam?"

"You're driving on blind faith for 396 miles - five hours and fifty-nine minutes, Mr. Dean Winchester."

"Shut your cakehole, you ass…" Dean snapped, speeding down the empty road.

* * *

Dean looked at Sam, then at the radio, then shook his head before turning the radio up just loud enough to hear. " _Mother, tell your children not to walk my way. Tell your children not to hear my words, what they mean, what they say. Mother… Mother, can you keep them in the dark for life? Can you hide them from the waiting world? Oh, mother…"_

Sam had long since fallen asleep in the seat beside him. Dean looked over and could see the puddle of drool expanding on Sam's jacket. He smirked, then looked back at the road. They finally made it into town. A town that looked about the size of a small park and had just about as many different places.

"Jesus… 'Welcome to Blanding - Population: 2,588.' And I thought Kingman was small."

"Pretty sure this is called 'isolation.'" Sam piped up with a groggy voice from his nap. He rubbed his eyes to refocus them. "Is this actually Blanding?"

"Well, good morning, Sergeant Waterfalls. How was the voyage?"

"Very funny."

"I know. Shoulda become a comedian instead of being a hunter."

He took a left on the town's main street. At the end of the road, he could see the hospital. The brothers pulled into the parking lot; Sam looked at his watch.

"6:45. What time did we leave?"

"I don't know, maybe 12:30."

"Well, at least we made good time," Sam said, trying to stretch out inside the car. Dean got out and stretched quickly.

"You coming, Sam?"

"Yeah, I guess. Just give me a sec to finish stretching." Sam let out a big yawn and threw his arms up before getting out himself.

The brothers walked in the main entrance. It was echoey and nice - the floors were shiny, the lights were dim to use more sunlight, and the lobby as a whole had a warm, comfortable feeling to it.

"How can I help you?" The older woman behind the counter asked as she saw the two approach the counter.

"Um, hi. I'm looking for a Margaret Hessler?"

"Oh, yes. Ms. Hessler is waiting for you, Mr. Winchester. She's on the third floor, down the hall to the left from the elevators - third room on the right side of the hall."

"Thanks."

Sam and Dean got in the elevator silently. Sam didn't want to ask his brother about the woman again, and Dean didn't want to talk to Sam about her. He just wanted to get this issue resolved. The elevator stopped on their floor, and the two made their way to see this Margaret lady.

The door was open - Dean knocked on it while walking in slowly. The woman in the office looked up at the sound.

"Mr. Winchester," Dr. Hessler said as Dean and Sam entered her office.

"You can just call me Dean. This is my brother Sam," Dean replied, motioning to Sammy. "So, what is it that you needed to see me about?"

"Oh, yes… Emily Ferron," she said, looking away for a moment. "Please, close the door and have a seat."

Dean plopped in one of the chairs as Sam closed the door carefully before joining him.

"So…"

"So… Dean. As I told you over the phone, Emily came in last night with severe pains. She listed you as her emergency contact."

"Which is what I was confused on."

Dean caught her by surprise. "You don't know why she gave us your number?"

"No, I have no idea. I haven't seen her in almost a year. We met at a bar in Colorado - Sam and I were there on… business. She and I had a, um… We had a night together, and I had to leave the next morning. Haven't seen or heard from her since."

Dr. Hessler let out a huge breath.

"Then what I have to tell you is going to be a much bigger situation than I anticipated." She leaned over her desk, leaning on her arms with her hands folded. "Mr. Winchester, she came in last night because she was in labor."

Dean's eyes grew wide. He turned to Sam, who had the same expression.

"She… She was pregnant?"

"End of the third trimester. She wasn't due for another two weeks." She paused. "I think, if you didn't know before now, that she listed you as her contact because…"

"No. No, don't say it. It can't be…"

"Can we see him?" Sam asked.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

"Dean, think about it. We were in Colorado about nine months ago, and it's not impossible to say you might be the father."

"We can do a quick test to determine if it's true, Mr. Winchester. We just need to know definitively, for legal purposes."

"Why can't you just ask Emily? She's gotta know, doesn't she?"

Hessler bit her lip. "Dean, she died. She died last night during childbirth…"

Dean's expression changed again. Another person he knew. Another person dead because of him.

He was silent for a minute before slapping his leg in frustration. "God damn it!" He got up and started pacing around the office. He ran his hands through his hair. He let out a deep breath. Sam turned and looked at him.

"Dean… If it is your kid…"

"I know, Sam… I know." He let out another breath. "What test do I need to take?"

"We can do a blood test, or we could do a DNA test. DNA would be more accurate, but it will take a day or so for the results."

Dean paused. "... I gotta know for sure."

"Okay… Come with me."

Dr. Hessler led the two to a more sanitary room and reached for a cotton swab. "Open up. I need to swab your mouth."

"Wait… Can we see it? After this… If it's my kid, I at least should see what it looks like."

"He."

"What?"

"What he looks like. She had a boy." She rubbed the swab against the sides of his mouth, then put it in a clear capsule.

"... Can we see him?"

She nodded. "We can drop this off in the lab for comparison. I'll run it overnight. It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."

As they made their way to see the baby, Sam looked at Dean. He could tell he was torn. Hessler took them to a window. There were probably only a dozen babies or so. Three of them were wrapped in blue. Dean walked up to the glass, his eyes scanning for the one that could be his. Sam stood beside him, his hands cupped on the glass. Between the three wrapped in blue, it was hard to tell what they looked like underneath the blankets.

"He's over there," Hessler piped up. "Farthest one over in blue."

The boys looked over - Dean could make out what the tag said, just barely: 'Baby Winchester.'

"Doc, how is he?"

"He's a healthy little fighter. There were some complications when he was born, but he's fine. But I must tell you now, before the test results come in, that he's…" She hesitated.

"He's what, Dr. Hessler?" Sam asked.

"He's blind. In both eyes."

* * *

Dean sat underneath the light of a dim, sucky lamp in their motel room. He watched Sam sleep. The events from the day were keeping him awake.

He looked at the clock – 3:34 A.M. – then sighed. He rubbed his eyes. There was just so much shit thrown at him at one time.

"Dean? You still awake?" Sam asked in a groggy voice, blinking his eyes a few times to focus them.

"Yeah, Sammy… I'm still up."

"The baby on your mind?"

"Amongst other things, yes."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Come on, Dean. It's gonna keep you up for days if you don't. Just talk to me."

Dean sat silent for a minute, his hand over his mouth. "You know, Sam… That's my son. I don't care if that test says I'm not. I can see it. He's my son. But I don't know if I want to be his father. If I even can."

"We've got legal custody over him, don't we?"

"Yeah, with Emily gone and her not having any family that's still kicking, all that leaves is us."

Sam sat in his bed, thinking for a minute. "We can't just leave him, though…"

"What other choice do we have, Sam? We can't hunt demons and spirits AND raise this kid! The life we have makes it impossible!"

"But we've got other hunters and friends and people to help us everywhere! I mean, look at you and I – Dad left us with so many peo-."

"Yeah, and look how we turned out! Dad wasn't a dad to us anymore – not after Mom died. He became more of a drill sergeant than a father, and that's not a life worth living."

"But he's gonna grow up not knowing anything about himself, Dean."

"He'll have a better image of who he is growing up with set of normal parents than with us, Sam…"

"But then he's living a lie… Yeah, you could put him up for adoption, but then you'll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you left your kid behind-."

"HE HAS A BETTER CHANCE WITH NORMAL PEOPLE THAN HE DOES WITH ME, SAM. I JUST GET PEOPLE KILLED."

Sam froze, his eyes wide as he stared at his older brother.

"He's better off not knowing his mother had a one-night stand with some crazy hunter who didn't want him…" Dean whispered, his face buried in his hands.

"But you do want him."

Dean hesitated for a minute. "How am I supposed to balance raising him and hunting? I mean, Jesus Christ… It's hard enough having to raise a kid, but a blind kid?"

"We figure out a way to do it, Dean. You're not letting him go. He is your kid, your responsibility. You can't just pawn him off to someone else entirely. You it to him, and to Emily, to be his dad."

Dean sat silently.

"Just get some sleep, Dean. Take a break. Walk away from it. Overthinking it won't do you any good."

"Goodnight, Sam." Dean answered as he got up from his chair and made his way to his bed, avoiding eye contact with Sam.

The next morning, Dean left for the hospital alone. Sam didn't hear him leave.

He walked into Hessler's office. "Dr. Hessler, are you here?"

She peeked her head out from around the corner. "Mr. Winchester? How are you this morning?"

"I'm okay…" He paused. "Actually, I'm not. I spent all of last night going back and forth about my son. About whether or not I should put him up for adoption."

"Well, that's reasonable. I'm sorry I had to be the one to put such a heavy burden on you so unexpectedly."

"It's not your fault. I just… my job, it requires me to move around from place to place. I just don't know if I would be able to provide for him the way I should be able to."

She smiled and nodded her head. "Come, Dean… I have something I want you to see."

Hessler took Dean to a room with a bunch of rocking chairs. "Take a seat, I'll be right back."

"Okay…" he said as he took a seat, then she disappeared. She returned a moment later with a small blue bundle in her arms.

"Here, take him." Hessler said, giving Dean the baby.

* * *

Sam woke up slowly. His vision was all blurry, but it disappeared after a few blinks.

"Dean? You up yet?"

He got no reply. He sat up in his bed, desperately searching for Dean. The keys to the Impala were gone, as were Dean's coat, wallet, cell phone, and shoes. Sam instantly knew where he was. He shot up, threw on his pants and shirt, and went to open the door when it opened from the other side.

"Sam? What were you doing?"

"Where'd you go, man? Don't tell me you –."

Sam looked down at what Dean was holding in his hand. "What made you change your mind, Dean?"

"You were right, Sammy. A boy does need to know his father."

Sam moved out of the way for Dean to get the car seat, himself, and the diaper bag through the door. He set his son down on the floor, and then unclipped his straps before picking him up. Sam could see the resemblance between his son and his nephew now. They had the same hair, the same face.

"Did Emily get to name him before she… she passed?"

Dean looked over at his brother, his son cradled in his arms. "Yeah… they were her last words."

"And?"

"His name is Dean. Dean Michael Winchester." Dean smiled, a hint of sadness hidden in it. "Wanna hold him?"

Sam nodded. Dean passed his brother the baby, and Sam held him to his chest like Dean had been. He was a small little guy, snoozing away in Sam's arms. The two could hear his little snores as he slept.

"You did good, Dean..."

"Thanks, Sam..."

* * *

Dean once again was sitting under the light of the dim, sucky lamp in their motel room, a beer in his hand. Sam came back from the corner store across the street.

"Got the stuff, Dean," he said, setting down the paper bags full of baby formula and diapers beside their own duffle bags.

"Thanks, man," Dean said, holding a beer bottle out to his brother. Sam took it and took a seat beside Dean.

"Got him to sleep?"

"Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought. He just ate, I burped him, and he fell asleep."

"Nice." Sam tipped the bottle back.

"I don't want to be like Dad, Sam."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't let me get into the habit of treating him like a soldier. Not like Dad did with us. He's my son, and your nephew, but it ain't gonna count for shit if I don't treat him like that. If I treat him like fighter instead of a kid, you know?"

"I don't think you're gonna have that issue. You know what not to do, so..." he said, trying to comfort Dean while taking another swig.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right." Dean stood up to see his son, who was still peacefully sleeping. "I've survived all day so far and he's still alive, so I must be doing something right."

"Jesus, Dean, don't make it out to be morbid humor."

Dean frowned - he couldn't help it. It was the only thing he knew how to do to cope. Because as he looked at his son, Dean couldn't stop thinking about how his mother died because of that night. That it was his fault his son was left motherless.


	2. Chapter 1

Hide Him From the Waiting World, a Supernatural Fanfic  
Chapter One

 **A/N: If you are one of the unfortunate people to have read the most recent posting of HHFTWW, please just completely forget that first "Chapter One" from your memory. It never existed. Gone. Poof, just like that. Because I hated it after I posted it. It was a (very, very, very) rushed work, and I wasn't too proud of it after I finished it, and to anyone who read it: I'm sorry I put you through that misery. So, here's a new one that I actually wrote out on paper before typing it (I typically just wing it and type, which doesn't always work out, as you might be able to tell.) Hopefully you enjoy this redo of the first chapter better! Leave a comment; constructive criticism is highly appreciated. Thanks, everyone!**

* * *

Between being a father and a hunter, Dean did everything in his power to be around for his son. When he was away, he would reluctantly leave his son with Bobby, Ellen, Sam (if he didn't have to take off with Dean for whatever reason) - someone he could trust, but even then, it was a struggle for Dean to leave the little Winchester behind. It was harder than he ever thought it would be - he was just so... he was special. But he also worried about him because he was blind, and because of that, he tried to be home as much as possible. The chance that something bad could happen always lingered in the back of Dean's mind. That was a burden he didn't want to put on anyone if he didn't absolutely need to. When he was home, though, Dean took care of his baby boy endlessly; he played peek-a-boo with him, sang to him, told stories to him - anything and everything that normal parents did with their children... just with a little bit of Dean Winchester flare. He just didn't want the same childhood he had for his son.

Sam smiled at his brother from his spot at the table as he was researching things on his laptop. The change in dean had taken a little time to occur, but it was amazing. He was rocking little baby Dean, Bear, to sleep, humming "Smoke on the Water" as he tried to get him to sleep, and it made Sam think about how his brother was as a father.

 _Dean and Sam sat outside of their motel room. The night was cool. It was quiet, and they had just gotten the baby to fall asleep. Each of them had a beer bottle in their hand as they sat in each other's presence. Their eyes had deep purple bags underneath them._

 _"It's been, like, a week, and I'm already exhausted."_

 _"You and me both, Sammy." Dean kicked back a swig of his beer. "I still can't fully grasp what I'm doing, to be completely honest. How in the hell are we gonna get this kid to eighteen? Hell, how did we get to eighteen?"_

 _"I don't know, but we'll figure it out." Sam let out a deep breath. "We've got Bobby..."_

 _"Sam, Bobby's like... Bobby's way past the age for raising a kid. And I'm not just gonna dump the kid on him. Not like Dad did when we were kids..."_

 _"I'm not saying we should just dump him on Bobby. I'm just saying that he's there if we need him. We can't take the kid hunting with us, and we can't just leave him in the motel by himself."_

 _"No shit we can't, Sam. But I just don't want him to have what we had. Remember what it was like when Dad would leave us with someone - Pastor Jim, Bobby? He'd be around long enough to pick us up, and then drive us somewhere else to drop us off again somewhere else. He was never there for us, never around. Not really. And then we got older, he'd just leave in the middle of the night, maybe leave us a note, and then leave us to fend for ourselves. Sure, we managed, but that wasn't living. Not for a kid. And I won't put my kid through that. He deserves to know who his father is, and I will do everything I possibly can to make sure I'm there."_

 _"Okay, I can understand that. Because we really did have a crummy childhood. The little bear deserves a chance to know what 'normal' feels like."_

 _"Damn right, he does," Dean said, taking another swig. "Bear, huh?"_

 _"Well, it cuts down on future contextual confusion, and the kid snores about as loud as one, so yeah."_

 _"'Bear...' I like it. Bear it is, then."_

And as Sam watched Dean rock Bear to sleep in the corner of Bobby's living room, he felt that Dean had done a good job. There were no more nights where Dean was out until dawn, no more one-night stands, no drinking - okay, no _heavy_ drinking - and a lot more compassion overall. Because of Bear, Dean starting seeing life a little more on the bright side.

Dean looked at the little body in his arms. He had fallen asleep; his eyes were closed and he was snoring. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

"I promise that I'll be there for you every time. I'll never leave you, buddy. You are, and always will be, the most important thing in my life... because you are the only thing that is absolutely mine," Dean whispered to his boy as he watched him sleep ever so peacefully. "I will protect you - I promise you that, Bear."

* * *

 **Fifteen Years Later**

Bear opened his eyes as he woke up. He could hear his father down the hall in his room, packing up his duffle bag as he prepped for another hunt. He rubbed his eyes, felt around for his glasses, and upon knocking them off the nightstand, just got up out of bed. It was the third hunt his dad had this month, and Bear had been with his father maybe for a week between the hunts. He staggered down the hall, still half-asleep, to his dad's room.

"Dad?"

Dean looked up from his bag to see Bear standing in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Bear. I didn't hear you get up." He tucked some socks in the bag before zipping it shut. "Sam found a hunt in Texas."

"Dad, I haven't gotten to see you hardly at all this month. This is the third hunt you've decided to go on."

"I know, Bear. You know I wouldn't leave if it wasn't important," Dean replied, knowing that Bear had been confined to the bunker for far too long. Most of the time, jobs were either really quick or few and far between. Activity just started picking up.

"I know, Dad... I get it. I just wanted to actually spend more than a day or so at a time with you."

"I'm sorry, Bear. I know I've been gone more this month than I've been home, but I promise that I'll be home as soon as I can, okay?"

"Hey, Bear. It's nice to see you up before noon."

"Shut up, Sam," Bear laughed. "Dad woke me up. I could hear him packing up his stuff..." He wiped his eye. "So... What's the hunt today?"

"I'm thinking it's a ghost, but I'm not 100% sure. We're gonna go down there, check it out, and it hopefully won't take us too long to resolve."

"Cool, cool... Take your time - I'll be fine here."

"I know you will be - you're old enough to take care of yourself." Sam turned around to close up the cabinet. "What do you do to defend against a demon?"

"Give them a little bit of holy water. Catch them under a Devil's trap. Throw in a little exorcism, and you've got yourself a party."

"Nice job."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Hey, Sammy - you ready to go?" Dean asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway. Sam and Bear turned toward him.

"Uh, yeah. Just packed up the salt and water. I think we're all set to go, Dean."

"Where's this hunt at, again?"

"Some place called Rusk, 'Middle-Of-Nowhere, Texas.'" Dean answered Bear as he put his jacket on.

"Oh, okay. Got it."

"Well, we should probably get going. We've got a long ass haul ahead of us. You got your shotgun all loaded up?"

"Yeah, I just reloaded the salt shells the other day."

"Good man. Phone charged?"

"Yep."

"Holy water flask filled? Salt pouch?"

"Yes, Dad. Yes. It's all taken care of. I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll call Bobby. I'll lock the door after you leave. I'll carry the water and salt in my pocket. When I go to sleep, I'll sleep under a Devil's trap. I've got the drill down, Dad. You've had me doing this for like, seven years. Just go." Bear absolutely hated when his father bombarded him with the 'routine' questions. Every time he left, it was always the same questions, in the same order, and after so many hunts, it got annoying. It was his biggest pet peeve.

"Hey, don't snap at me like that, Bear."

"Then don't ask me all these questions like I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not some wounded puppy. I know what to do. Jesus, Dad."

Dean bit his lip. "Bear... I just need to know that you'll be okay."

"And I will be. Can you just trust me a little more?"

Dean looked at his son. Bear had a point. But all the people he and Sam had lost... he wouldn't - _couldn't_ \- risk Bear being on that list. He threw his arms around his son, biting his lip and trying to blink the tears away that just kept coming. "Okay, Bear. I trust you."

* * *

Sam and Dean didn't stick around much longer. They had eleven hours of travel time to Rusk, and they were losing daylight by the second. The brothers climbed into the Impala, Dean in the driver's seat, and left the bunker. Bear sat in Room 11 as he listened to the Impala leave the garage. There was something about sitting in his father's room, surrounded by his stuff, his smell - in essence, him - when he was gone that made the separation a little less painful. He laid in the middle of Dean's bed as he listened to the Impala start up. As he listened to it pull out. As he heard it's sound fade away. And he laid there for a long while after it was long gone.

 _"Daddy, why do you always have to gone all the time?"_

 _Dean knew that question was bound to be asked sooner or later. He let out a sigh as the two stood on the porch of Bobby's house. Bear was still young, but he knew when Dean was leaving him, just not that it was to hunt._

 _"Buddy, I have to take care of something. Uncle Sammy and I have to go help someone."_

 _"But you guys are always out helping other people..."_

 _"I know, buddy. And one day, when you're a little older, I'll tell you all about what I do, but right now... Right now, I need you to stay with Papa Bobby. I need you to be safer, okay?" He knelt down to the little boy's level, giving him a hug as Bobby opened the door._

 _"Hey, Bear!"_

 _Bear turned at the sound of Bobby's voice. "Bobby!"_

 _"Hey, look at that, Bear!" Dean said, standing back up. He smiled at Bobby. "Thanks for keeping an eye on him while we're gone." Dean handed Bear's things to him. Bobby took them and set them inside the door._

 _"Don't worry about it, Dean. We're gonna have a good time together, aren't we, Bear?"_

 _"Yeah..."_

 _The two could hear the sadness in Bear's reply. "Hey, I'm only gonna be gone for a week, buddy."_

 _"I know, Dad... I just miss you when you're gone."_

 _"Buddy, I miss you when I'm not with you, too... I love you, Bear."_

"I love you, too, Dad... I just wish things were different."

Bear closed his broken eyes as he rolled over on his side, one single tear rolling down his face. He wanted so much to have a more stable, more 'normal' (if you could even use it in a sentence relating to the Winchesters) life. He wanted to be with his dad more than he was, whether that meant his dad not being a hunter, or Bear having his eyesight. Just something where Bear didn't have to live alone more days out of the year than he saw his dad. If only he could see... maybe things would be different. If only...

He laid in his father's room for what felt like forever as he silently pitied himself. When he finally did get up, he reached for the clock on the nightstand beside him. He ran his fingers across the face where the hands lined up. It was 12:15. It had only been about two hours since Dean and Sam had left. They weren't even out of the state. Bear sighed. He reached for his phone, but then hesitated. No. His dad was driving. It wasn't worth calling him. He drew his hand away from his pocket and got up. He wiped the tears off his face and left to change his pants, then turned around and went to the library.

The day crawled by slowly. Bear went from reading to 'watching' movies to 'watching' family videos of himself with other people to eating to drawing (even though he didn't know what the hell he was actually drawing) to listening to vinyl. But the whole day just had a really crummy vibe. It didn't feel like home anymore. It didn't feel like living anymore. It just felt like existing. After so long, after countless nights staying home alone, waiting for Dad, Bear just didn't feel like he was living anymore. And there was nothing he could do about it.

 _Bobby was in the kitchen making lunch for himself and Bear. He was humming a little tune, listening for Bear in the other room. Sandwiches were a solid option for Bear, so he grabbed the bread, the turkey, cheese, olives, and mustard and started throwing it together. He didn't notice right away that Bear had fallen silent, but as it did, he took a peek into the living room. Bear was laying on his side in the middle of the floor._

 _"Bear? Bear... Are you okay?"_

 _When he got no response, he slowly walked around to see the front of Bear. He saw the little boy with his shaded glasses on, balled up on the floor with one of Dean's shirts scrunched up against his chest. He stood there as he watched the tears roll down Bear's cheeks._

And now, ten years later, Bear found himself in the same situation. He was laying on his side in the middle of the war room, crunched up into a ball with one of Dean's shirts scrunched up in a wad against his chest. And he could feel the tears trickle down his face.

Some time later, Bear woke up to the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket.

"Hello?" His groggy voice came through.

"Hey, Bear... How're you doing?"

"Dad?"

"Yeah, dude. Did I wake you up?"

"To be completely honest, I didn't even know I fell asleep until you called."

"Well... Sorry for the wake-up call. I just wanted to let you know that Sam and I got into town."

"Oh, okay... What time is it?"

Dean looked at his watch. "About 10:30. Why don't you go back to bed? You sound tired, and it's getting late."

Bear hesitated. He didn't want to hang up the phone. Not yet.

"Dad..?"

"Yeah, Bear?"

"..." He hesitated. Maybe it was better for him to just go back to bed. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Bear. Go back to sleep, okay? I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, Dad. Good night."

"Good night, Bear."

Dean hung up his cell phone. He could tell the isolation was starting to take it's toll on Bear, but it was the only way he could keep his son safe. To keep him away from the hunt. Dean had too many other people on his conscience that died because of it; John, Mary, Jo, Ash, Victor, Daniel, Jim, Jessica, Meg ... He wouldn't add Bear to that list. Dean wouldn't let that happen.

"Bear okay?"

He looked at Sam, who was shaving in the mirror. "Yeah... Yeah. He's okay."

Dean reached for his wallet, and he pulled out a picture of him holding Bear as a baby. That was what he was protecting. Every sacrifice, every night spent away from his son, every cut, scrape, bruise... it was all for Bear.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" He answered, looking up at his brother.

"You know that he's okay. He can hold his own."

"I, uh... Yeah. I know."

"Then stop worrying, Dean. He's gonna be fine. We're only gonna be here for a few days, and then we'll be back on the road. Just relax."


	3. Chapter 2

Hide Him From the Waiting World, A Supernatural Fanfic  
Chapter Two

 **A/N: I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, so if this is good or not, I can't tell. I've been running on like, six hours of sleep for three days. And this is the first time I've looked at HHFTWW in months. Oops. Sorry not sorry.**

* * *

Bear woke up the next morning to his empty bunker, to nobody's surprise. He had fallen asleep in a chair, which was also to nobody's surprise. Bear could sleep virtually anywhere. He rubbed his eyes, stretched out, and made his way to the kitchen where he poured himself some cereal. It was the same routine he followed for as long as he could remember.

But as he sat in the kitchen, Bear felt a cool breeze against his back, and he suddenly had the urge to go out into town. It had been a long time since Bear had been outside. It had been a long time since he'd been outside alone. And every part of him was telling him not to leave, but something was drawing him out. He couldn't stay and ignore it. He just couldn't...

" _It was a Monday,  
_ _A day like any other day.  
_ _I left a small town  
_ _For the Apple in decay  
_ _It was my destiny,  
_ _It's what we needed to do,  
_ _They were telling me.  
_ _I'm telling you…  
_ _I was inside looking outside.  
_ _The millions of faces,  
_ _But still I'm alone.  
_ _Waiting, hours of waiting;  
_ _Paying a penance,  
_ _I was longing for home.  
_ _I'm looking out for the two of us.  
_ _I hope we'll be here when they're through with us."_

* * *

Bear remembered himself running as fast as his legs could take him. Where he was running, not even he knew. He just kept running. He could hear the sound of his feet, and then his memory crapped out.

Now Bear felt himself lying in the backseat of a car.

"Hey, kid… You up?"

Bear flinched at the sudden presence of a voice. It was low and rough, but it felt… non-threatening. Almost familiar. His gut told him to trust the voice.

"Um… yeah."

"Okay, I couldn't tell, and I didn't want to take off your shades. Personal bubble and all."

"Oh, well, thanks," Bear answered. He sat up and rubbed his face. "Where am I?"

"In my backyard. In Lebanon. Saw you running through town heading south. You kinda just dropped on the side of the road."

"Oh." Bear's face turned a little red. "I haven't run that hard in a long time. Maybe ever. Probably was just a real intense run."

"Sounds valid to me. You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

There was a pause. The man didn't know what to say next. "Um… So…" he coughed. "I've been here for a long time, and I don't think I've seen you before. What's your name, Son?"

Bear swallowed the spit in his mouth. "Dean. My family calls me' Bear', though."

"'Bear,' huh? Interesting nickname. Story?"

"It's not much of one. My dad's name is Dean, too, and my uncle started calling me 'Bear' to cut down on contextual confusion. Mainly because I used to snore really loud when I was a baby."

"Fair enough. So, are you a Junior, then?"

"Hm?" Bear asked with a head tilt.

"You said your dad's name is 'Dean', too. Are you Dean Junior?"

"No, no. Thankfully," Bear replied with a chuckle. "No, my dad has no middle name, and I do. My mom thought I'd feel empty without a middle name, so I'm not a Junior."

"Ah, I see…"

"What about you? What's your name?"

"John. My name's John."

"Nice to meet you, John." Bear put his hand out in front of himself. John reached out and shook it.

"Nice meeting you, too." Again, another pause of awkward silence. "So, um… How long have you and your parents lived in Lebanon?"

"My, uh… My dad and I have lived here as long as I can remember. My uncle lives with us, too. So it's a three-man family."

"Would I be crossing the line if I asked…?"

Bear shook his head. "She died. I never knew her. And it's not a huge thing in my life just *because* I never knew her."

"I see… You have a picture of her at least?"

"Yeah. It feels nice, but it really doesn't help me any."

"Why's that?"

"I can't see it as it is, so I don't know what she looks like."

And yet another silence. John didn't know how to respond.

Bear frowned a little. "If it's any consolation, I've never been able to. And there are worse things than being blind. I mean, look at Helen Keller. She was blind and deaf, and she seemed to make the best of it."

"I-I… I guess, yeah. It's just a shame. You've never seen water? Trees? Animals? Color?"

"Nope. But you can't miss something you never had, so…"He shrugged. "Not a big deal." Bear and John sat in silence for a moment before they changed subjects.

Hours felt like they had gone by when Bear stood up. "You wouldn't happen to know what time it is, do you?"

"It's about 7:45 right now. Need to be getting home?"

"Yeah… I probably should."

"Gonna be able to make it home on your own?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Thank you, John. It was nice seeing you."

John watched as Bear started walking away. He could hear him clicking his tongue as he walked.

"Hey, Bear?"

Bear turned around. "Yeah?"

"Why haven't I seen you around before?"

Bear smirked for a second. "Same reason I haven't seen you before. You're invisible to me."

Bear walked through the gate of John's yard, and then he woke up.

" _It was a Monday,  
_ _A day like any other day.  
_ _I left a small town  
_ _For the Apple in decay  
_ _It was my destiny,  
_ _It's what we needed to do,  
_ _They were telling me.  
_ _I'm telling you…  
_ _I was inside looking outside.  
_ _The millions of faces,  
_ _But still I'm alone.  
_ _Waiting, hours of waiting;  
_ _Paying a penance,  
_ _I was longing for home.  
_ _I'm looking out for the two of us.  
_ _I hope we'll be here when they're through with us."_

"Well, fuck. Another dream..." Bear murmured to himself as he took off his headphones. His phone was still playing that song on loop. He once again got up, took off his glasses, and walked from the kitchen to his room. He was still in his pajamas from two nights ago.

John watched from the far corner. Bear looked miserable. John shook his head. He knew enough about Bear to figure out the isolation was killing him. He could see it in the way Bear carried himself, the way he talked about everything. John just knew... it was looking at Dean all over again. Seeing the look of dejection on his face. It hurt John to see Bear in the same boat as Dean was.

"Why are you making your kid live in isolation, Dean? I know you and Sam hated it, and you even had each other. Bear's got no one... What the hell, Dean?" He murmured to himself.

* * *

Dean sat in the Impala in some gas station parking lot while he waited for Sam to take a crap. He kept looking at the handful of Bear pictures he kept in the car. One was a baby photo - Bear was over Dean's shoulder, and his tongue was hanging out. It always made Dean smile when he looked at it. Then there was one of Bear on his fifth birthday; Bobby had sent Dean the picture of Bear sleeping on the hood of another Impala in the lot. There was a piece of cake on the hood beside him that was untouched. Dean knew it was a piece for him. He had been caught up in some demon business that had gone too long, causing Dean to miss Bear's birthday. Then there was one of himself holding Bear across his shoulders, the way someone a yolk across the back of their neck. Bear was smiling with such a big grin, missing teeth in the front and all, and they were both laughing. Dean remembered when Sam took that picture; Bear was eight, and it was around Father's Day. It was such a good day. The two just spent the day doing anything and everything they felt like. And the more Dean thought about it, it was really the last time he saw Bear genuinely smile.

"Have I really been that shitty of a father?"

"You complaining about me having to take a dump?"

Dean turned to see Sam coming back to the car. He turned the key and unlocked the doors. "No, no... just talking to myself again."

"Dean, Bear is a strong kid. He's probably having a party without us there."

"You know damn good and well Bear is not having a party. The kid knows if there's one thing broken, he's dead. Besides, he's got nothing but mellow blood in his body."

"Well, you know that you told him this was the last one. It's been rough sometimes, but you've done so much better than Dad ever did as far as being around for your kid goes."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, but you know what Dad would say if he were here to see Bear and us? He's probably already pissed at me - if not both of us - for leaving Bear alone all the time. I can just feel his disappointment weighing on me..."

John sat in the backseat of the Impala, listening to Dean and Sam. "You're damn right I'm disappointed in you, Dean."

"I mean, I haven't even really told Bear enough about Dad... or Mom. Or anyone for that matter. I honestly don't think he knows about Mom, and he's sixteen years old. What kind of parent am I? Haven't even told my own kid about his grandparents."


End file.
